December is here before its June

[Charliecat5]

This Twitten running lark is becoming a thing.  9am this morning saw another motley crew heading out for a third session in as many weeks.  I would love to say they’re getting easier, but they’re not. 

Out Along the River (aka Rob) has even set up a twitter account (@TwitterRun) for the occasion, which is starting to attract other runners to the fold, including the Godfather of running himself:  Mr Tom Roper; who has promised to grace us with his presence for the Christmas run.  On another, very positive note, there are strong rumours that bacon scarnies will be provided at the end of the Christmas run.  I bet they're few excuses for turning out for this one.

So we now have six nutcases signed up.  The Cat, The Goat, The Snapper, Wildman, Media Man, Mountain Man and as already stated… a seventh in the offing: The Godfather.  Plus, somewhere sitting stage left is Sam… the man who has run them twice already this week, but has not yet plucked up the courage to run the challenge with us (can’t say I blame him to be honest); and Pinky  (A GIRL), who would have been with us this morning had she not overslept (… SO SHE CLAIMS).

The rules of Twitten running (and yes, we have rules) are pretty simple.  You run up the Twittens  as quickly as you can, but at a speed you can maintain all the way up.  It's about running at your own pace… pushing your own boundaries, making your own improvements.  HA HA HA HA, AS IF.  Obv. it’s about making sure you get to the top first.  There is nothing like the sound of determined footsteps running inches behind you to drive that extra bit of effort… to dig deeper than you have ever dug before…  to make it to the top first.  Christ alive… it’s a brutal experience.  We had an experienced (proper) runner with us this morning, but even he was on his knees by the end.

In other news, I also managed a nice little outing with Rob on Friday evening.  Just a gentle jaunt around town to run the aches and pains of the working week away.  It was good apart from the sense that a cold was on its way.  By Saturday morning (and following a late night out on the beer) the cold which was clearly just playing with me on Friday, had arrived.  I very nearly pulled out of the Twitten run this morning, but having taken advice from t’internet, decided that as my cold was above neck and not below, I would head out and let the torrential rain and gale force winds sort me out.   I enjoyed the running… but I’m not sure it has done my cold any favours. 

The good news this coming week is that cold aside, I am working at home Tuesday and Thursday, which means I can re-join the herd again and head out for some really crazy stuff.  Track day on Thursday… oh boy, I’m looking forward to that.

[Charliecat5]

Well I'm not that impressed with December so far.  After (well before and during) the Twitten run on Sunday I’ve come down with a cold bordering on man flu.  This is doubly frustrating as after weeks of travelling, I’m actually working at home this week so could have joined the herd for a couple of runs.  Bah… Humbug! 

[Charliecat5]

December eh!  All that's happened in December so far is one Twitten run and one soddin' bout of man flu.  Just when the travel had eased and I was home in readiness for some serious herd running, I get the most almighty cold.  BGG has a similar issue... and even OATR is suffering (but the less said about how he caught his cold the better).  

Bah humbug.

   

The Moyleman arrangements are progressing well... so that's a positive. 

[Charliecat5]

I realised something this morning… well to be honest, I realised this sometime ago… but the thought was reinforced this morning… runners are lovely people to be with.

They come in all shapes and sizes, all different abilities, and run for all sorts of different reasons.  The bunch of reprobates I was with this morning run just for the hell of running - which is what gets me out of bed. There is just a joy to be had from running up the streets of Lewes with a load of other fools first thing on a Sunday morning.

The last few weeks will go down in history as carrying one of the worst colds ever. The best bit has been the hacking cough and lack of lung capacity. BGG complains about lung capacity quite regularly, but until recently it is not something I've really understood – not because I’m any sort of athlete you understand, rather my legs usually give out long before I struggle with the breathing bit.  However, over the last few weeks… I could actually feel parts of my lungs refusing to work… complaining bitterly to the rest of me. 

Forcing the issue on Sunday mornings, running up the Twittens probably hasn’t done me a great deal of good, physically… mentally though, it has been great to get out there.

But it hasn’t all just been Twitten running… oh no… on Christmas Eve I came up with a cunning plan to run Blackcap and back.  I sent out a tweet advertising the fact, with the hope that the runners of Lewes would flock.  There was radio silence. I tried again. Nothing.  Nothing except for one. 

So 8am on Christmas Eve morning BGG and I set off from his gaff… having first shown me his beer collection (as some sort of temptation/excuse not to go).  Within yards we hit mud, within half a mile we were in gale force winds, within a mile the man had gone arse over tit (I didn’t laugh – honest (I laughed)). Fortunately, the pace was sedate as I don’t think I could have managed anything other than sedate.  We got to the top and then realised, horribly, that the wind that had carried us out was now in our face for the return trip to town.  Even the downhills were hard work.  Yet we still arrived back home with big grins on our faces. 

Mad fools go running… bring on next year’s adventures.
 
 

[marathondan]

Camera next time CC please - preferably video

Glad to hear that you are over the plague - looking forward to some great tales in 2016.

[Charliecat5]

It’s one of them funny days… 

A “one-of-a-kind in rock ‘n’ roll’ has passed on… I think it is a huge tribute to the man that a lot of people I know have their own Lemmy story to tell.  Mine is polishing his boots before a gig in Sherwood Forest many years ago.

The man passes… but he leaves a legacy behind… and central to this is living life to the full.  So whilst I don’t pretend to come anywhere close to the life he led... in my own way, strapping on the runners this evening and heading out with the herd was just the therapy I needed.

It was a lovely trip out… the herd split from the beginning with a small group of crazies leaping straight into light-speed, leaving the rest of us, a mixed group, to do a nice steady run around the streets of Lewes, with a few hills thrown in for me to test the flabby arse muscles.   Following last week’s gluttony it was great to just run at a nice sub 9min/mi pace without any shenanigans thrown in to test body and soul.  It was also nice to arrive back after 4.5 miles with plenty of juice still left in the tank… I could have done it again.  These Sunday morning Twitten Runs are definitely having a positive effect.

Time for a shower now… and in the absence of any JD in the house… I will drown a couple of beers and raise a glass to Mr Kilmister.  His music is raw, it is played from the heart, it is simple, and it is great - especially when turned up to 10.  Cheers Sir.  

   

[Charliecat5]

Marathondan has appeared!  And in homage of this special appearance, I have been inspired to update my graph... there are a few runs missing (I've not been keeping them up to date as well as I might)... but I'm pleased to note that I am still averaging 1.5 miles per day... although this average is declining from the heady heights of 2.6 miles/day back in July.

   

[Charliecat5]

BLOODY ‘ELL IT’S THE END OF THE YEAR…


So to celebrate I booked a sports massage this morning… with Ruth the Impaler (actually she was lovely).  She had an uncanny way of reading my ailments from just the touch of her hands.  From the onset she had me sorted… a runner… a wonky runner… breathing problems… spends too much timing running with a goat (ok, I made the last bit up). It was as though she’d read my running diaries.

Then she started… oh god, she started.   She found muscles that I didn’t believe I had… still don’t to be honest.  She sharpened her elbows on granite before she worked on my gluts… she took a run up before leaping onto my back with her knees to sort my shoulder out... she had me in head-lock until I promised to pay.

All in all, it was fabulous and just what I needed.   As I left (crawled out) she didn’t actually say I shouldn’t go running this afternoon, but hinted rather strongly that the last 45 minutes, combined with a vigorous run could leave me feeling like I had been kicked by a horse come the morning.   I couldn’t bring myself to mention the forthcoming evening plans as well.  Bring on the morning… well afternoon… perhaps evening.

However, as I lined up on this afternoon’s start line… with wobbly legs and a whole new bag of different aches… I couldn’t help but be impressed by the great mess of hangover and late night, standing next to me.  When I say standing… his knuckles were dragging on the floor.  Yep, Billy Goat Gruff had had a late night at Ronnie Scotts. 

It was a steady start.  Unfortunately, on this particularly run we are hit with a steep hill within the first quarter of a mile.  It is surprising how quick the big man is on his hands and knees.  Up over Juggs lane we toiled, straight into a headwind with Kingston Ridge rearing up ahead of us.

A mile and a half in and we reached the foot of the beast … in the failing light it looked moody… moody and not in any frame of mind to suffer fools.  We tentatively started moving upwards.  All my plans of racing up it fell away, as pummelled legs and a dodgy carburettor took hold.  It wasn’t a bad ascent… but it was certainly below form.  Once on the top we were straight back into the headwind before turning north again for the descent back home.  By this point, the Big Man had shed a good part of his hangover and was starting to pick up speed, helped by the declining elevation.  The last mile home was pretty quick… for us. 

Last blast of 2015 done… thanks big man.

   

Photo: Sweder